


FNV One Shots

by pennyq22



Series: Fallout [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: 5 years younger than him kJDHSKJh, Amnesiac Courier, Animal Death, Blood, Caesar's Legion, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Guns, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scars, boone calls canary kid even though she's like, brief mentions of gore blood and wounds, canary gets headaches when she remembers things, mentions of bullet wounds, tell me if i need to add any more tags!, these are mostly character studies for boone in particular because i care him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennyq22/pseuds/pennyq22
Summary: Small one shots with my courier, Canary (Susan) and Boone, mostly.
Relationships: Craig Boone & Female Courier, Craig Boone & OCs, OCs & Female Courier, more to add probably
Series: Fallout [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073327
Kudos: 5





	1. Comfort

He was one of the first people she took comfort in being next to. After waking up with fragmented memories and a healing bullet wound in her head, Canary had stumbled around, trying to find a place where she _belonged_. A place that felt right. The doctor was nice, but there was an underlying sense of obligation to him for saving her life. It made her uneasy.

She couldn’t remember much of her adventure up to meeting Boone, other than a really nice lady who showed her how to use a gun (that she took to so easily… had she held a gun before?) and a grumpy barkeeper who she fixed a radio for. Her memories came in fits and starts, and always made her head hurt so much that she had to rest for the remainder of the day while her brain came to terms with the new thing she remembered.

Canary was tired of it. She was tired of asking questions about herself, tired of being _asked_ questions, tired of roaming around when she couldn’t even _see_ properly, wearing clothes that were far too big for her small frame. The glasses she had taken from the doctor’s home had helped clear her blurred vision somewhat, but the prescription wasn’t nearly strong enough for her poor eyes. That probably didn’t help her headaches any.

She stared into the campfire that Boone had made, glasses off and set on the ground next to her. The flames climbed and curled up into the sky, and a start of a memory tickled at the back of her mind, warm feelings associated with the smell of tea and strawberries.

Boone sat across from her, looking out at the desert before them. The silence was comfortable, neither of them minding it ~~(there was always someone there to fill the silence)~~. Canary fiddled with the leather bag at her side, pulling out a half-empty bottle of water to take a tiny sip.

“...Do you want me to take the first shift?” Canary’s eyes flitted up from the fire to meet Boone’s through his sunglasses ~~(familiar, somehow…)~~.

Canary gave a half-shrug, returning the water to her bag. “If you don’t mind.” She absentmindedly stretched a hand out in front of her, dangerously close to the flames. Her fingers carried a fine tremble, betraying how frail her body really was. She let her arm fall to her side, pointedly ignoring the way Boone was looking at her.

“Rest, then,” Boone said quietly. “I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

She gave a quick nod, shifting so she was laying down. “Thanks.”

\---

* * *

\---

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she shot up from her spot on the ground, nearly bumping her head into Boone’s. She skittered a few paces away, not even bothering to stand up. She looked at Boone, eyes wide and searching. His hands were held up, expression unreadable.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said. His hands fell back to his side.

Canary stared at him, desperately trying to calm her racing heart. Her head pounded, eyes watering. She drew her legs up to her chest, pressing her forehead into them. Memories swirled around, twisting together, and she screwed her eyes closed.

A beat of silence passed. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

She let out a soft noise. “Don’t talk,” she hissed. “Head hurts.”

“Ah.” The silence was tense as Canary waited for her head to get itself back together. She could almost feel the concern radiating off of Boone. A hand raised up to press against the bandage on her head. She hissed again. “What happened?” He asked.

“Shot,” was her clipped response. Silence stretched again.

“In the head.”

“Yes.” She raised her head slightly. Boone was closer to her, but still far enough away that she felt comfortable. His brows were raised. “Doc who patched me up said I was lucky.” She let her head drop back down. “Doesn’t feel like it. Can’t remember anything before that. Head hurts.” Something came to mind. “Probably best I don’t remember anything before. What I do remember isn’t… pleasant.” Except for the faint smell of tea and strawberries, but that was only a recent development. Something about a little girl?

“I understand.” Canary raised her head again. “Well… I don’t. About the being shot in the head thing.” Boone looked to the side, mouth pressed into a thin line. “But the desire to forget the past.” He looked back at her, looking about as tired as she felt. “If you want, go back to sleep. I can still watch.”

“I don’t want to sleep.” No matter how much exhaustion pulled at her. “Do you?”

“...Not particularly.” Boone faced the fire, then motioned with his arm. “C’mere, kid.”

Canary blinked, the action horribly familiar. Her head began to pound again as she slowly moved next to him. There was only a small beat of hesitation before Boone wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into an awkward half-hug. Her face smushed into his side, and her body pressed against his in a way that definitely wasn’t comfortable, but neither complained.

They needed this.


	2. Unlikely Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canary has a run in with some Legionaries, and gains an unlikely companion.

Boots crunched against the soil. Canary didn’t look up for a moment, focused on finishing a sentence in her notebook (she had taken to documenting what was happening -- she didn’t want to forget. Not again.). Her brows furrowed when she realized that this couldn’t be Boone, this was multiple pairs of footsteps, and she looked up.

Something tickled in the back of her mind at the sight of the people in front of her. Two Legionaries were approaching her, grasping at a person in between them. The shock of wild blonde hair streaked with brown and grey was the first thing she was drawn to; then, the long, elongated scar that stretched across his nose from cheekbone to cheekbone. His eyes lit up when she met his gaze, and a brief flash of guilt speared through Canary. She couldn’t remember him.

Canary stood as they grew closer, flipping her notebook closed and holding it close to her chest. Her weapons were in her tent. It was too late to get them now. She looked over the two Legionaries, weighing her odds at beating them unarmed.

“Courier,” the Legionary on her left spoke.

Canary blinked. Nobody had called her the Courier in a while. Her grip on her notebook tightened. “...Can I help you?”

“Susan,” the man with the scar breathed. “It’s you, I --”

“Shush.” Canary swallowed.

“Can I help you?” She asked, voice stronger.

“We’ve heard some… interesting things about you.” The same Legionary stepped forward. Canary held her ground. “About what you’ve done in the Mojave.”

“What I’ve been doing is none of your concern.”

“We’ve seen you with an NCR soldier.” Boone. They had to mean Boone. The air turned dangerous. The man frowned, confusion drawing his brows together. The Legionary stepped closer, a sharp smile stretching across their face. “This means you support their cause, don’t you?”

Canary blinked again. “I -- what?” She hadn’t heard much about the NCR, just knew about them from what little Boone had told her.

“We have a deal for you.” The man was pushed forwards. “You join _our_ cause, and your friend doesn’t get the bullet.”

Oh. Oh, _God_ , it had to be something like this. Canary looked from the soldier to the man, panic welling in her chest.

“I-I don’t --” she swallowed. “--I don’t know him.”

“ _Course_ ya do.” The other soldier motioned to him. “He was _lookin’_ for ya, knew you by _name_ ….”

“I _don’t_.” She finally took a step back, hand going back for her tent. In a flash, the Legionary closest to her pulled out a gun. She froze. The man started, acting like he was about to intervene, before pausing when the other soldier grabbed his arm and placed a gun against his head.

“You _join us_ or the man dies --” Their head suddenly exploded in a shower of red. The man flinched, expression crumpling into disgust as he wiped blood and matter from his face. Canary ducked down into a squat, hands clasping together above her neck, as the soldier aiming at her pulled the trigger. A bullet whizzed above her head before their head was also blown from their body. Canary felt herself trembling.

Footsteps approached her; a sturdy hand was placed on her shoulder. Canary looked up to see Boone looking back at her, lips twisted into a frown. “You alright?”

She gave a shaky nod. “...Thanks.” His expression relaxed slightly before he nodded. “I don’t know where they came from -- do you think there’s more?”

“Likely.” Boone looked back at the man before looking back at her. “If they had him as a bargaining chip, there’s definitely going to be more.”

Canary took in a deep breath before standing up. “Got supplies?”

“What I could.” They both finally focused on the man, who was still wiping blood from his face. Canary could feel the tension from her companion. “What do we do with him?” He whispered.

“Dunno. Says he knows me.”

“Do you?”

“Don’t remember.” She took a timid step forward. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t know you.” The man looked at her.

“Jesus Christ, kid --”

“What?” Canary looked back at Boone. “How else was I supposed to tell him?”

Boone gave a light shrug. “Got me there.”

“You don’t know me?” The man had closed the space surprisingly quickly -- and so _quietly_ \-- almost in Canary’s personal space. She stiffened.

“No. I don’t remember you.” Her head was beginning to hurt. “Mind telling us your name?”

“Johnathan.” He bit his lip. “I -- Susan, you don’t _remember_ me?”

She shook her head slightly, then pushed her hair away from her forehead to reveal the rather nasty scar the bullet had left. Johnathan’s eyes widened. “I was shot. I don’t remember anything.”

He looked away. “I -- _fuck_.” He took a quick step back, crossing his arms. “Goddammit, kid….” He looked back at her. “Nothing? No Jayce? Hazel? Blair?” Canary shook her head. “...Aileene?”

“...No.” The names sliced into her head, making it pound. They were important. Significant. She slowly moved to sit on the ground, wincing. Jonathan watched her, looking nearly wounded. Boone placed a hand on Canary’s shoulder. She slouched.

“Are you good to move camp?” He asked. “Probably won’t be long before they realize their plan went south.”

“Yeah, just gimme a moment.” Canary propped her head up with a hand, closing her eyes.

A beat of silence. “Headache?” She nodded. “...How bad?” She held up her other hand and waved it from side to side before dropping it back down onto her lap.

“She gets headaches?”

“Yeah.” Boone’s tone suddenly turned harsh. “They come and go. Happens when she’s trying to remember something.”

“Usually end up incapacitating me within the hour.” Canary opened her eyes, looking at the ground. “If you can,” she started, looking up and to the side some so Boone knew she was addressing him, “you can start packing us up. I can be ready to go when you’re finished.”

Boone disappeared from her vision just as Johnathan spoke up. “I can help.”

Canary hummed. “Boone, what do you think?”

“I think that this means he’s going to join us.”

“Think it’s a good idea?”

“You already know my answer.” Canary gave a quiet snort.

“You said the same thing when I asked you to join me.”

“That was different.” Boone went quiet for a moment, however. “He can come with us -- _if_ we take him to where he belongs.”

“Hm.” Canary nodded. “Not like we’re doing anything else.”

“Might jog your memory, too,” Johnathan said.

“Not right now.” Boone’s voice was firm. “Her head’s already hurting and she doesn’t need it getting worse.”

Canary’s lips turned up into a thin smile. This was going to be interesting.


	3. Impressive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boone shows Canary how to shoot a rifle.

“ _No_ , not like that --” Boone shifted behind her. “Here, let me fix your position -- just look down the scope and hold the gun tight. The knockback can take you off guard.”

Canary let her arms get moved, frowning. “I don’t see the point of this.”

“It’s another possible weapon choice,” he replied simply. “I would like it if you knew how to work one. Now -- look down the scope.”

She looked down the scope, glasses pressing against her face as she focused on the empty can of soda that Boone had set up a little while away. “I’m going to have to clean my glasses again.”

“Don’t press your face against the gun, then.” A beat of silence. “Good idea anyways. Seen a few men get knocked in the face with the recoil.” Canary pulled her face away from the gun to look back at Boone. He looked back at her, expression flat, but his eyes twinkled with an underlying current of amusement. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold the gun with you.” Canary looked back towards the can. Boone placed his hands on hers, and pressed his head close to her. “You’re lined up well enough. Just pull the trigger.”

Canary did. With a loud clap that echoed through the desert, the can fell over. The gun jolted slightly, but otherwise didn’t move. Canary let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her posture relaxing. Boone gave an approving hum.

“Good. I’ll help the next few times, but you’ll need to learn how to --” Something rustled in the bushes near them. Both Canary and Boone’s heads snapped towards the noise.

“...Hm.” Canary tilted her head to the side, watching carefully. Slowly, she set the rifle down, reaching next to her for her pistol. They both watched as a rabbit hopped out of the brush, looking at them with ears perked. Boone moved to reach for his rifle. Rabbit was hard to come by; their packs currently full of dried gecko steak. If they wanted extra cash, they could sell the meat and hide.

The rabbit went still, then turned to scurry away. In a flash, Canary’s pistol was raised, the woman not even bothering to take the time to look down her gun as she fired. Boone raised an eyebrow at her, but paused when Canary gave a little triumphant noise, brushing sand off her pants as she rose to her feet.

Boone watched, stunned, as Canary walked to the rabbit, picking it up by its feet. She turned to look at Boone, an uncharacteristically wide grin on her face.

He was gawking. Boone closed his mouth and cleared his throat. “Nice shot.”

“Hm.” She walked back to him, holding it out like an offering. “What should we do with it?”

“Did you even _aim_?” Canary tilted her head at him, tucking her gun under her arm as she adjusted her glasses.

“I suppose I didn’t?” She looked down at the rabbit. “Did I need to? I didn’t think I needed to, so I just… I dunno.” She looked back up at Boone, frowning.

What the _fuck_. Boone shook his head, then took the rabbit from Canary. “You don’t _need_ to, but….” He looked at the rabbit. The bullet had hit its mark, red coating the side of its head. “What the fuck -- where did you learn this from?”

Canary gave a light shrug, still frowning. “Don’t remember.” She grabbed her gun, looking it over. “I know I practiced a lot before, but….” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I had to do a few odd jobs here and there for the caps.”

“That’s… God, that’s impressive.” Canary blinked at him. “Really, it is.” She looked away, biting the inside of her cheek. Boone gave a small frown, then held up the rabbit in his hand. “Why don’t we cook this?”

“I --?” She looked back at him, brows cinched together.

“....” Boone took a moment to think. “...I think you deserve it.”

Canary flushed, the tips of her ears turning red. “I -- no -- no, I don’t.”

“C’mon.” Boone turned back towards their camp. “Let’s go, alright?”

A few beats of silence followed before Canary started following him.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, please tell me if I need to add more warning tags! Thank you for reading these!


End file.
